


Best of Wives and Best of Women

by bananannabeth



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, as if the song doesn't hurt enough already, i had to go and turn it into an angsty percabeth au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8117557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananannabeth/pseuds/bananannabeth
Summary: Percy's leaving for a fight he doesn't think he'll win, and he has to figure out how to say goodbye to Annabeth without letting her know it's goodbye.





	

Percy doesn’t check the time when he sits up in bed, bending his legs and slipping out from under the sheets with as little disturbance as possible. No sunlight peeks around the edges of the blinds, and his internal clock tells him that it’s far too early to be awake. His sleep was fitful, though, and he’s given up on the possibility of any more. 

Annabeth shifts beside him, rolling over in her sleep, and he pauses so as not to wake her. She looks beautiful like this. She looks beautiful always, actually, but when she’s sleeping she looks _peaceful,_ and the rarity of that alone is enough to instil it with some special beauty all of its own. Her hair is haloed around her head, and her breath escapes in little puffs that make the stray curls in front of her face fly into the air. She mumbles something unintelligible and clutches tighter at the comforter, drawing it up under her chin. 

Percy wants to curl himself around her, scoop her into his arms and bury his face in the crook of her neck and never leave. He wants to slide back beneath the covers and hold his wife and go back to sleep.

He tries to memorise every detail of her - the dip of her nose, the curves of her lips, the set of her brows, the exact number of her freckles. He feels the press of time, sand emptying from the hour glass, and realises that even after all these years, he still hasn’t spent enough with her. 

He will never have enough time with her.

He silently stands and slips from the room.

Annabeth doesn’t know about the prophecy, and Percy intends to keep it that way. If the Fates are going to keep on messing with him, that’s fine, he’ll deal with it - but he’s not letting them drag Annabeth into this. Not again.

He’s pored over the lines with Rachel and Chiron, and they can’t seem to think of a way out of this one. There have been no ‘you aren’t the hero’ epiphanies from Rachel, no wise words from Chiron. Just frustration and sad eyes and dread settling like a stone in Percy’s stomach as he realises this might really be it, this time.

All those years saving the world and he still can’t catch a break.

He’s made both of them swear on the River Styx not to tell Annabeth until he’s left - a fact which neither of them are very happy about, and which took a lot of threatening and bargaining and begging for him to secure. They don’t understand, he knows they don’t, but Percy can’t - _he can’t lose her, okay,_ he just _can’t_. 

He cannot leave their children orphaned. 

If he has to die, he has to die, but he will not take Annabeth with him. Even if he wants nothing more than to have her at his side always and forever more, he will not be that selfish. She has so much to live for, so much still to achieve, and their children need her. Percy will not take that away from her.

He suspects that the pain of leaving her behind will kill him sooner than any prophecy, but it has to be done.

“Seaweed Brain, come back to sleep.”

He starts so badly he draws a line of blue ink straight up the page he’s writing on. His head snaps up and he sees Annabeth, silhouetted in the doorway, arms folded over her chest and head tilted quizzically to the side.

“Sorry,” he says, almost a whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She yawns and ignores his apology. “Come back to sleep.”

He counts his heartbeats, tries to project an aura of calm. “I have an early meeting back at camp.”

She’s not buying it. She slowly walks towards him, arms still folded, and the light from his desk lamp makes her hair shine gold. “It’s still dark outside.”

He swallows the lump in his throat, speaks around it with nothing but tenderness. “I know. I just have to write something down.”

She quirks an eyebrow at that, grey eyes brightening slightly. “Percy Jackson, getting up early to write something? Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” 

She rests the back of her palm across his forehead and he feels far from okay, he feels as though he will never be okay ever again, and her skin is so cold and so familiar against his that he almost cries. 

Instead he laughs. “I know, I know. But Chiron’s really been on my back about these training schedules - something about being really unprofessional, for someone who calls themselves a teacher.”

Annabeth smiles and lets her hand drop, replacing it far too briefly with her lips. “You’ll have time to write them later.”

He shakes his head. “I was having nightmares, anyway.”

She frowns, silent for a moment. Neither of them have had a nightmare for a long time, now. They do still happen, though, when they’re sad or stressed or scared. Percy’s not lying, and Annabeth knows this.

“Percy, are you okay? Really?”

“Shhh. I’m fine.”

She curls her arms around his shoulders and kisses his cheek, his neck, his ear before whispering, “Come back to bed.”

Gods, what he wouldn’t give…

He slides his hands over hers and squeezes once before gently unlacing her arms. “I’ll be back before you know I’m gone,” he says, hoping that his lie sounds lighter and more believable to her ears than his.

She shakes her head. “Come back to sleep.”

He closes his eyes, because if he looks at her while he says this he’s going to cave and tell her, and there’s no way she’ll let him go on his own. “This meeting’s at dawn. Something to do with Apollo visiting.”

Behind him, Annabeth huffs. He hears the shuffling of her feet as she steps back from his chair and he knows that she’s done with this conversation, even if she does think he’s an idiot.

“Well, I’m going back to sleep.”

“Hey.” She’s just turned away when Percy spins, reaching for her hand. She stops and looks down at him, concern splayed across her features. His heart breaks at that look, but he forces himself to hold her gaze. 

When he doesn’t speak, she raises an eyebrow. “You got something to say to me, Seaweed Brain?”

He grins easily, catching on immediately. “You’d probably kick my butt.”

“You _know_ I’d kick your butt.”

Their words give way to silence, and Percy fights to keep his composure. What if this really is the last time he ever sees her? He squeezes her hand and remembers everything she’s ever done for him, remembers their children sleeping soundly in their rooms, tells himself that he’s doing the right thing.

He will not be a coward. 

“Annabeth,” he breathes, and she smiles softly. “Best of wives and best of women.”

She’s confused, for just a moment, but then she smiles. “You know it.” 

She squeezes his hand before letting go, and Percy has to fight to stop himself from running after her as she heads back to bed.

He turns back to the letter he’d barely began writing, wiping the tears from his eyes and telling himself this is not goodbye forever.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_This letter, my Annabeth, won’t be delivered to you, unless there is no chance of me making it back from this quest; unless I’ve gone on to a happy afterlife, annoying Hades for all eternity as I wait for you to join me._

_If it had been possible for me to avoid this quest, my love for you and the kids would have been all the reason I’d need. But it wasn’t possible, without sacrifices which would have ended up hurting all of you - all of us. I couldn’t do that to you._

_I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how shitty this makes me feel, and how absolutely terrified I am at the idea of leaving you. I know this is going to hurt you, a lot. I think that’s what scares me most. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about the prophecy sooner; I couldn’t even think about it without wanting to break down, let alone speak about it out loud._

_I know that you think I should have told you. I know that you think you should have come with me - As long as we’re together, right? Except it’s not just the two of us anymore, Annabeth. You’re the smartest person in the world; logically, you know I’m right. (I know that might be tough for you to admit, but deep down you know it’s true. Sometimes, rarely, when no one else is around to back me up, I can be right.) I couldn’t risk leaving the kids without both a mom and a dad. They deserve to have you in their lives._

_And you deserve to live._

_More than anything, Annabeth, you deserve to live._

_I don’t know if this will help, but know that I will wait for you. We’ve been to the Underworld plenty of times before, you know that it’s not so bad a place. I’m sure I’ll find some things to keep myself occupied while you continue to build a better world up there. And then, when you’re done, I’ll be here ready to head off to Elysium with you. What a truly happy immortality that will be. (Does it count as immortality if you’ve technically already died?) That’s going to be my last thought - The hope and comfort of knowing that I’ll meet you again._

_Goodbye, best of wives and best of women. Give the kids a hug from me._

_Ever your Seaweed Brain,_

_Percy Jackson._

**Author's Note:**

> The song [Best of Wives and Best of Women](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AcP291GQnFk) made me cry enough as it was, but then I read [Hamilton’s full goodbye letter to Eliza](http://founders.archives.gov/documents/Hamilton/01-26-02-0001-0248) and my heart just shattered. And here we are.


End file.
